stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 17535
    [post_author] => 16
    [post_date] => 2016-11-10 17:42:42
    [post_date_gmt] => 2016-11-10 17:42:42
    [post_content] => I.

‘Go crazy,’ he begs me, unfolds me –
the arch, the heel, the tip of my foot;
I’d crack if I could.

plié, relevé

One, two, three, four –
I lost count
of days, of years,

ronde-des-jambs

of how many times
I had my heart muscle stretched too far.
‘Open up,’ he shouts,

fouetté, pirouette

‘your chest, your light,
let the walls tumble down
as you forget who you are.’

glissade, assemblé

I can try
but a girl like me cannot shine
without blinding everyone.

II.

‘Go crazy,’ he makes me
strip off my layers, a painful task:
if one cannot break a body,

jeté, battement

surely one can break the mind
until all you are is a hostage
to your fractured heart.

arabesque, attitude

‘Just breathe;
don’t fake it,
make it real.’

á la second, soutenir

I kick, I scream;
I stay silent, swollen with words
I chose to eat.

tendu, cou-de-pied

‘Go crazy,’ he breaks me,
takes me apart: my crumbling
shoulders, my aching arms.

turn out, turn in

Spinning in circles,
swallowing my guilt,
under the rug I sweep my sins.

en dehors, en dedans

‘Until you forget who you are.’
Forgive them, yes, I think I might
as he straightens me out,

pas de bourré, tombé, valse

puts me back together now:
wings, ribbons,
no glue, no cast.
    [post_title] => Becoming Giselle: Poem in Two Acts
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => becoming-giselle-poem-in-two-acts
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2016-11-14 12:26:19
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2016-11-14 12:26:19
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=17535
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2016
            [wpcf-summary-description] => This poem is commended in the Who is Giselle? poetry challenge  on Young Poets Network (YPN) in 2016.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Commended, Who is Giselle? poetry challenge 2016
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 2758
            [forename] => 
            [surname] => 
            [title] => Denisa Vítová
            [slug] => denisa-vitova
            [content] => Denisa Vítová is the overall winner in the 2016 Young Poets Network August Challenge #4, and is commended in the  Who is Giselle? poetry challenge. Her poems have also won several other challenges on Young Poets Network, including the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2015, the Animal Tales Challenge, and Helen Mort's Cape Farewell writing challenge. 
        )

)
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 2758
    [forename] => 
    [surname] => 
    [title] => Denisa Vítová
    [slug] => denisa-vitova
    [content] => Denisa Vítová is the overall winner in the 2016 Young Poets Network August Challenge #4, and is commended in the  Who is Giselle? poetry challenge. Her poems have also won several other challenges on Young Poets Network, including the Timothy Corsellis Prize 2015, the Animal Tales Challenge, and Helen Mort's Cape Farewell writing challenge. 
)

Becoming Giselle: Poem in Two Acts

Denisa Vítová

I.

‘Go crazy,’ he begs me, unfolds me –
the arch, the heel, the tip of my foot;
I’d crack if I could.

plié, relevé

One, two, three, four –
I lost count
of days, of years,

ronde-des-jambs

of how many times
I had my heart muscle stretched too far.
‘Open up,’ he shouts,

fouetté, pirouette

‘your chest, your light,
let the walls tumble down
as you forget who you are.’

glissade, assemblé

I can try
but a girl like me cannot shine
without blinding everyone.

II.

‘Go crazy,’ he makes me
strip off my layers, a painful task:
if one cannot break a body,

jeté, battement

surely one can break the mind
until all you are is a hostage
to your fractured heart.

arabesque, attitude

‘Just breathe;
don’t fake it,
make it real.’

á la second, soutenir

I kick, I scream;
I stay silent, swollen with words
I chose to eat.

tendu, cou-de-pied

‘Go crazy,’ he breaks me,
takes me apart: my crumbling
shoulders, my aching arms.

turn out, turn in

Spinning in circles,
swallowing my guilt,
under the rug I sweep my sins.

en dehors, en dedans

‘Until you forget who you are.’
Forgive them, yes, I think I might
as he straightens me out,

pas de bourré, tombé, valse

puts me back together now:
wings, ribbons,
no glue, no cast.